


If You Can't Keep Up

by JRC



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alpha Zenos yae Galvus, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biting, Breeding, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Hospital Sex, Hospitals, Knotting, Marking, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Blood, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Omega Warrior of Light, Omegaverse, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Wall Sex, but who's really the alpha here?, miqo'te have claws, scents and stuff idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRC/pseuds/JRC
Summary: L'lo has suffered from especially violent heats for almost as long as she has suffered any heats at all. Being as physically powerful as she is, and an omega to boot, this has made her heats somewhat... difficult to endure. After all, there are very few Alphas who will stick around to knot her after nearly having their arms dislocated when they attempt to dominate her. So she spends her heats alone, sedated, in the Special Heat ward of the local hospital, the Seventh Dawn. A feral omega, they call her. Too dangerous to ever share a heat with anyone. But what if she were to meet a feral Alpha? Enter: Zenos Galvus. Feral Alpha.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Comments: 6
Kudos: 77





	If You Can't Keep Up

**Author's Note:**

> listen, I didn't come here to write good summaries, I came here to write disgustingly self-indulgent heatfic, let me LIVE-
> 
> Side note, this is a fic that takes place in a modern Omegaverse AU, and both characters are on the cusp of their heat/rut, but still thinking clearly. I wrote both partners enthusiastically consenting to this situation.

L’lo sighs as she stares up at the flickering neon lights that spell out the hospital’s name, a garish sky blue against the building’s concrete exterior.  _ Seventh Dawn _ . What happened to the other six, she finds herself wondering, just the same as she always does, each time she comes here. The miqo’te hitches her duffel bag up higher on her shoulder and tears her gaze from the irritating blue sign, starting her trek across the parking lot towards the familiar inpatient doors. A diligent soldier reporting for another season’s battle, her whole life put on hold for this involuntary duty. 

She nods to the familiar faces she passes in the front lobby of the hospital, including the man behind the front desk, who nods to the miqo’te as soon as he sees her, not even pausing in his conversation on the phone as he leans over to write her name in the log. L’lo is well-known at the  _ Seventh Dawn _ , given that she enjoys - if you can call it that - extended stays here four times a year, just as she has done every year for nearly the last half decade. She ducks her head, using the pale blonde curtain of her hair to hide her face from the curious onlookers that litter the lobby as she stalks towards the elevator that will take her down to her designated ward.

Once in the elevator, one claw, already capped, reaches out and digs viciously into the button labelled “SH,” a hasty addition that is of a different color and font than all the numbered buttons for the other 7 floors. L’lo considers the thick rubber sleeve that encases her claw, turning her hand over to examine her fingers, curling them into her palm and frowning at the way the rubber drags against her skin. The caps are for the hospital staff’s safety. She knows it. She knows it, and yet… It chafes at her, these precautions she always has to take. The safety of the people around her is tantamount, naturally, but sometimes… No. No, it won’t do to dwell on that now.

L’lo reaches up and brushes her hair back out of her eyes with the back of her hand, slumping against the wall of the elevator as she waits for the ancient doors to slide shut, folding her arms over her chest. She closes her eyes, thinking back on the advice her therapist Minfilia had told her, and takes deep, steadying breaths, focusing on the here and now, on what she can control. Inhales, counts down from ten, exhales. Inhales again - only to stop dead, her whole body freezing up as her mind registers the scent of another person - a virile, powerful scent. The predominant smell is something like fresh-cut wood ( _ calloused hands, rough from hard work, carpentry, chopping wood, homemaker, provider _ ), but the scent is much more complex than that. There are hints of a floral scent ( _ gentle, clean, elegant, refined _ ), something both sweet and bitter ( _ tender touches, dark hickies, sharp bites _ ), and something almost metallic ( _ blood, sweat, embers from a dying fire, the clash of steel on steel _ ). 

With a jolt, L'lo realizes the tantalizing scent is moving closer. She jams a capped claw into the button to close the elevator doors repeatedly, her tail beginning to puff up as her mind races at the implications of such an appealing scent, so close by. A viable mate? In the hospital? Right now? Of all the inopportune times - The miqo'te brings a capped claw up to her teeth, poised to bite into it before she remembers the rubber cap encasing it and hisses, folding her arms across her chest and tucking her hands beneath her armpits to keep from indulging in any of her other unfortunate anxious habits. She taps a foot impatiently, never once taking her eyes off the elevator doors as they finally, blessedly begin to slide shut, with a shriek of grinding metal that sets her teeth on edge.

L'lo actually jumps as a large hand slips between the elevator doors, wrapping around one and easily wrenching it back open. The miqo'te curses silently, pressing herself as far back into the corner of the elevator as she can manage, knowing how feral she must look, ears flat, tail puffed, duffel bag, and claw caps. When the elevator doors have opened fully, a hulking figure steps between them and into the elevator, stopping short as their eyes alight on L'lo, one manicured eyebrow raising curiously. The miqo'te hisses at the intruder before she can think better of it, and digs her claws into the strap of her duffel bag, which only ends up applying a dull pressure to her capped claws that makes her wince.

The individual in the elevator with her does not look impressed, either by her appearance or her behavior, and leans into L'lo's personal space - well, over it, really, since they’re so damned tall - and peers down at the neat columns of elevator buttons. They blink when their gaze lands on the "SH" button, already lit up, and focuses instead on L'lo, their expression pensive now rather than simply unimpressed. The person - the Garlean, she corrects herself, noting the third eye in the center of their forehead - leans back against the opposite wall of the elevator and nods to her, slipping their half-gloved hands into the pockets of their open leather jacket. She watches their nostrils flare, their pupils dilate as they take a long, slow inhale. Powder blue eyes roam her form, before narrowing, perplexed. The Garlean shakes their head, smoothing over their features to look just as disinterested as they had when they stepped into the elevator.

L'lo, her nerves frayed, gestures to the elevator buttons impatiently, glaring up at the Garlean and arching an expectant eyebrow. "We're going to the same place, my friend," the Garlean purrs, the sound of his voice alone enough to send a shiver racing down L'lo's spine. It rings of dark promise and filthy intentions to her pheromone-clouded mind, as close to her heat as she is, and the miqo'te sinks her teeth into her lower lip as she nods, looking pointedly away from the man with the voice like liquid sex as the elevator doors slide shut. L'lo is busy stuffing herself as far into the corner furthest from the Garlean as she can when he speaks up again, an amused note in his stupid sexy voice. "I've never been down to the dungeons with someone else before. What do they make you come for? A dainty little thing like you, it's a wonder they don't take you somewhere else."

L'lo's mind helpfully latches onto the words “make you come” spoken in that devastating voice, and she digs her claws into her palms again, wincing as the rubber caps bite into her skin. It’s a good reminder of where she is, why she’s here - and the miqo’te clears her throat, straightening up where she leans against the elevator wall, willing the fur of her tail to smooth back down as she stares right back up at the Garlean, defiance in her eyes. [The same reason as you, I’m sure,] she signs up to him, letting her fingers sweep out at the end of her words, how she conveys sass when she signs.

The Garlean’s eyebrows rise at that, and he turns his gaze back up to hers after she has finished signing, a curious gleam in his powder blue eyes. “Eorzean sign language? Interesting. It has been some time, but I believe I followed that. ‘The same reason as you, I’m sure,’” he parrots, shifting to cross his legs at the ankle. “But I doubt that very much,” he chuckles, shaking his head slowly.

It’s L’lo’s turn to be surprised, and she nods carefully, evaluating the man across from her with renewed interest. He has a faint, but detectable accent, so the fact that he knows Eorzean as well as Eorzean sign language is at least moderately impressive. His fine clothes and immaculate grooming speak to wealth, and that combined with his apparently extensive knowledge of languages implies… what, a very expensive private education? L’lo muses on this as the elevator continues its agonizingly slow descent to the Special Heat ward of the  _ Seventh Dawn _ , letting her eyes trail over the Garlean’s form appreciatively.

“If we are to be fantasizing about each other for the next torturous week, we may as well have each other’s names, so we know whom it is we are dreaming of,” the Garlean says, interrupting L’lo’s train of thought, and drawing a blush to her cheeks. She hadn’t been very discreet in her appreciation of his body, it was true, but for him to be so blunt? It’s refreshing, to say the least. “I am Zenos,” the man says, pushing himself away from the elevator wall and holding out a massive hand for L’lo to shake, a small, amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Zenos Galvus.”

L’lo takes Zenos’ hand and shakes it firmly before she even registers what she is doing, only to quickly withdraw her hand upon feeling a jolt of levin between their bare fingertips as their hands part. She stares down at her hand, perplexed by the unfamiliar -  _ arousing  _ \- sensation, before the miqo’te glances back up at Zenos, and signs, [L’lo Rosea.]

"Lo," the Garlean purrs, narrowing his eyes as he considers the miqo'te, his eyes raking over every ilm of her body once more. "I'll enjoy shouting that name. Short. Simple. Rolls off the tongue." L'lo feels her blood begin to boil, between Zenos' increasingly powerful scent filling the confined space, making it harder to think, and the raw hunger with which his eyes devour her petite form.  _ This one… _ she thinks, licking her lips subconsciously.  _ This one could keep up with her. _

It is only the screech of the elevator doors as they slide agonizingly back open that jolts L’lo from her stupor, lost as she is in those predatory blue eyes. Both she and Zenos look up as the doors cease their shrieking, fully open, revealing the front desk of the Special Heat ward, every single person standing around it frozen as they all stare at the elevator doors with a variety of shocked and horrified expressions. The secretary who signs L'lo in and fields calls from her friends stands up from her desk chair, brown eyes wide with alarm, as she takes in the sight of them, standing just feet apart, hours from L'lo's heat and Zenos' rut. "Mr. Galvus," she frowns, folding her arms across her chest, and turning a frosty glare up at the hulking Garlean. "You are  _ very _ late."

L'lo turns her attention back to Zenos as his lips curl into a lazy smile and he shrugs, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket once more. "What can I say," he drawls, taking easy, measured steps out of the elevator and into the lobby of the Special Heat ward, shrugging his broad shoulders. "I was… distracted," Zenos purrs, glancing back over his shoulder and fixing L'lo with a positively feral smile, his eyes gleaming in the fluorescent lights, teeth bared. Her core throbs with primal desire, a wave of heat that has nothing to do with the temperature washing over her, threatening to drown her completely in lust. 

[I want him,] L'lo signs, her fingers flying as she shoves past Zenos, stopping between him and the desk. Everyone is staring at her, but less than half of them understand the rapid motions of her hands, and L'lo signs it again, knowing the secretary across the desk can understand her. [I want him. I'll sign whatever waivers you want. Let me have him, please. He can take it, can't he? Just look at him,] she signs with a breathy chuckle, glancing back over her shoulder at Zenos, her pupils blown wide with want. The Garlean looks back down at her, amused but perplexed, the look of a predator waiting to see what his prey will do next. She realizes her body blocks his view of her hands, and turns back around to ask him. [Spend my heat with me?] L'lo asks, searching Zenos' blue eyes as she pauses, her hands trembling with anticipation as she waits for his answer. 

Zenos looks taken aback as he slowly lifts his gaze from L'lo's hands to her face, the first hint of uncertainty she has ever seen there creeping into his striking eyes. "I… must have misinterpreted you, my friend. Could you… sign more slowly, perhaps…?" he trails off as L'lo repeats the same motions, one word at a time. Then he chuckles dryly, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall beside the elevator doors, which have only just begun to screech closed. "My dear, you really have  _ no  _ idea what you're asking for."

Perhaps it's the way his face is now closed off, his eyes dull once more, even beneath the fluorescent lights. Perhaps it's the condescension dripping from his voice when he speaks. Perhaps it's the way his upper lip tugs up in the start of a sneer. But before she knows it, L'lo has dropped her duffel bag and is barreling back towards Zenos, her hands balled into fists. The hospital staff are clamoring behind her, voices crying out in alarm, but her fist is already rocketing towards the Garlean's groin, conveniently located at perfect punching height. A large hand shoots out and seizes her wrist, stopping her fist dead in its tracks, so she brings her leg up instead, and smashes her foot into Zenos' crotch with all her might. The pandemonium that ensues is all-consuming.

Nurses swarm around L'lo, hauling all 4'10" of her, solid muscle every ilm, up into the air and dragging her bodily down the hall, away from Zenos. The Garlean has fallen to his knees, clutching at his crotch, but he stares after L'lo through the throng of frantic hospital staff with what looks like wonder in his eyes, rather than pain or rage. That's the last of Zenos that she sees before L'lo is wrestled bodily into a sealed, padded room, and left there with a strict warning to stay there until "Mr. Galvus" is seen to, and someone comes to get her. The miqo'te rolls her eyes and takes out her frustrations on the padded walls, punching and kicking until her blood has settled from a boil to more of an… even simmer.

Once her mind is calmer, she begins to regret her actions… but only a little. She leans against one of the padded walls, sliding down it until she's sitting on the padded floor, and reaches back to tug her tail into her lap, stroking it to self-soothe absent-mindedly. Zenos Galvus… what an interesting creature. What an interesting Alpha. And the scent of him - by the Twelve, what an alluring scent he had. L'lo furtively brings the hand that had shaken Zenos' up to her nose and inhales, her eyes fluttering shut and a moan escaping unbidden from her lips as she breathes in his scent once more. Cedar, roses, myrrh, iron… It's a unique combination, and one that L'lo is only too happy to indulge in while she waits. Even if she never sees Zenos again, she has a sneaking suspicion that this scent will haunt her dreams regardless.

The door to her padded room opens, and L'lo looks up, quickly dropping her hand back into her lap. The nurse who typically administers her sedative is standing there, L'lo's duffel bag in hand, and motions for the miqo'te to follow her. L'lo hops nimbly back to her feet, tail flicking anxiously behind as she follows the nurse out of her temporary prison, and back down the hallway towards the front desk. She's surprised to see Zenos still there, rising easily a head above all of the hospital staff - and his eyes locked on L'lo the whole time. L'lo shoots the nurse behind the desk an inquisitive look as the throng of nurses around Zenos and the desk slowly parts, and the desk nurse sighs, sliding two clipboards across the surface. One clipboard is pushed towards Zenos, and the other towards L'lo. There is a pen sitting on top of the paperwork that is clipped into the clipboard, with a duct-tape flower at the end. L'lo blinks down at it, uncomprehending.

"The waivers?" The desk nurse prompts her, drawing L'lo's perplexed green eyes up. Motion out of the corner of her gaze has her turning to look at Zenos. The Alpha is already scribbling signatures and initials into every blank on every page of the paperwork he can find, and when he feels her gaze on him, Zenos glances up to meet L'lo's eyes, and licks his lips. A shiver rolls down L'lo's spine and she turns back to her own stack of paperwork, recognizing it finally as the hospital's waiver. But… the stack is too thick for it to be just her paperwork. L'lo splits the stack in half with a capped claw, lifting the papers that she is all too familiar with ( _ I will not hold the hospital responsible for any actions taken by the feral omega L'lo Rosea _ -), only to find a remarkably similar set below it.  _ I will not hold the hospital responsible for any actions taken by the feral Alpha Zenos Galvus _ .

L'lo's mind grinds to a halt, and she stares blankly down at the words on the paper for a moment, fighting down the building arousal in her core. A feral Alpha? They  _ exist _ . Feral Alphas  _ exist _ . She had always been told that her situation was rare, isolated, one in a million. That she would be spending her violent heats alone for the rest of her life, because she's too dangerous to be around others. But Zenos... Zenos is a feral Alpha. L'lo had mostly been kidding when she asked the desk nurse if she could have him, but to see the paperwork, to feel Zenos' warmth beside her, smell his scent, thick in the air around them, as he signs her paperwork, and waits for her to sign his -

"Lo. The papers?" The desk nurse prompts, heaving a put-upon sigh, even as she smiles across the desk at the miqo'te, her smile friendly and teasing. "He wants you, too. I wouldn't let you do this if he didn't. Besides, with both of you in one room, that means less clean-up for us after you go." L'lo can't help but grin back at the nurse, snatching up the pen and beginning to scratch her initials into the paperwork, starting with her own, and hurrying through each repetitive page. "You were right," the nurse sighs, rolling her eyes. "He can handle it. I wouldn't be letting this happen at all if I didn't know exactly what you both can handle." The nurse's voice is more serious now, and L'lo glances up from her paperwork, meeting her steely gaze. "I'm trusting you here, Lo. Zenos.  _ Both _ of you," she stresses, sighing as Zenos shoves his clipboard back across the desk, his pen dropped unceremoniously back into its cup on the other side of the counter. "You're both destructive. Try to keep the destruction to a minimum this time, will you? I'd like to stop having to replace furniture. I think a few good knots will do you both a world of good, insofar as your… coerl-like instincts to destroy everything in sight. Just try not to do each other permanent harm. Alright?”

“Naturally,” Zenos purrs, leaning his hulking figure up against the desk, staring expectantly down at L’lo and the pen in her hand. She blinks and nods, hastily turning her attention back to the paperwork before her, pen flying across the pages as she hastily marks line after line with “LR,” until her own handwriting is illegible to her. As she finally scribbles a rushed signature on the final page of the paperwork, she feels Zenos’ large hand settle between her shoulder blades, and L’lo shivers. She turns her gaze up to meet Zenos’, and the Garlean smirks down at her, a sparkle of genuine interest there as he takes in the sight of her. L’lo looks back down as someone nudges her arm, and she sheepishly accepts her duffel bag back from her normal sedative nurse, who looks ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. She rolls her eyes, but Zenos has turned her away already, his hand insistent on her upper back.

L’lo shrugs Zenos’ hand off her back, for as much as she likes the contact, they’ll have plenty and more of that when they reach their assigned room - his, or hers? - and right now she doesn’t like the way he is attempting to assert his control over the situation. Alpha though he may be, L’lo fully intends to maintain just as much control over this situation as she will allow him to have. The miqo’te pauses, ignoring the way Zenos places his hand back on her shoulder, attempting to nudge her forward, and roots herself to the spot using a martial stance while she waits for the desk nurse to make her way around the desk, and lead them to their designated room for their stay. She does not miss the way the desk nurse’s lips curl up into a smile before she hastily covers her mouth, faking a yawn, before nodding to the feral pair to follow her as she sets off down the hall.

L’lo reaches back to grip Zenos’ hand, pinching down on the nerves between his forefinger and thumb, and twists. She keeps twisting until he finally reacts, far past the range of motion she has ever been able to twist anyone’s hand before without them pleading for mercy. She smirks up at him, deliberately dropping his hand only after he narrows his eyes down at her, then turns on her heel and starts after the desk nurse, a new spring in her step, and sway in her hips. Her inner omega preens at the growl she can hear Zenos make behind her, his own heavy footfalls speeding up as he hastens back to her side.

“Play coerl and mouse on your own time, hm?” The desk nurse says, fixing them with a chastising glance over her shoulder, before her lips curl into a teasing smile. “Come on, then. You’ll be in L’lo’s room.” She stops outside the door to room 14, and L’lo relaxes somewhat at the familiar sight, stepping forward to open the door and head inside.

Zenos stops her with a hand on her shoulder, and L’lo shrugs it off again, hissing back at the Alpha, only for the sound to die in her throat as she takes in the Garlean’s expression. He looks… mildly worried. Which, considering his highly dulled reactions to everything else, means that Zenos is alarmed. Very alarmed. “ _ Her _ room? Not mine? Is the bed reinforced? The walls? Is  _ anything _ ? She’s  _ tiny- _ ”

L’lo stops that line of inquiry by stopping dead in her tracks, and bringing her heel down smartly on Zenos’ massive foot. The desk nurse snorts, and Zenos makes a disgruntled sound, but does not so much as remove his foot from beneath her own. “L’lo’s room is reinforced exactly the same as yours, your Imperial Highness,” the desk nurse says, curtsying to Zenos with a patronizing smile.

The Alpha blinks once, twice, then turns his gaze down to L’lo, who folds her arms over her chest and arches an eyebrow up at him, daring him to say something else stupid. “The  _ same _ ?” is all he says, and L’lo resists the urge to sigh at the missed opportunity to hurt Zenos again. “But…”

“You may not want to finish that sentence, your Radiance,” the desk nurse huffs, eyeing L’lo’s tensed muscles, the miqo’te primed to pounce. “Yes, all the restraints are identical to those in your own room. And I assure you, they are just as necessary for her as they are for you. Now, if you’ve finished putting your gargantuan foot in your mouth, Mr. Galvus, I recommend the pair of you step inside and get started, so I can lock you in, and you can stop putting my staff on edge.”

L’lo steps into the room, flashing the desk nurse an appreciative smile, before she turns on one heel and begins stepping into the room backwards, curling a finger towards Zenos as she drops her duffel bag onto the floor and kicks it to the wall. Her calves collide with the bed, and she lets herself tumble into the blankets, spreading her legs invitingly. The desk nurse turns to look at her, and splutters, lifting a hand to cover her eyes. “And I’ll thank you to not start until after I’ve shut this door!” she adds, tutting at L’lo as she takes Zenos by the forearm, dragging him inside and shutting the door behind him.

The sound of the first deadbolt sliding home seems to echo in the room around them, even padded as it is with however many layers of foam it now boasts. Zenos stands just inside the room’s entrance, eyeing L’lo with a mix of hunger and curiosity, and L’lo shucks off her oversized sweatshirt, tossing it to the padded floor on the other side of the room, where it is less likely to end up permanently stained from the impending chaos. [What are you waiting for?] L’lo signs, before leaning back into the pillows heaped at the head of the bed, and reaching up to tug her tank top off, letting the muscles of her arms flex as she peels it up over her head, revealing her bra to the Alpha who is  _ still  _ inexplicably standing on the other side of the room.

“You are… certain that this is what you want, yes?” Zenos asks, his voice level despite the way his blue eyes drink in her bare copper skin, the curves of her muscles that ripple as she spreads her legs wider in answer. “It’s just… the last omega I spent my rut with couldn’t walk afterwards.”

[For how many days?] L’lo’s fingers ask, a thrill racing up her spine at the thought of an Alpha who could do that to  _ her _ .

“Forever,” Zenos says coolly, folding his arms over his chest, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly. “You signed all the waivers. I just wanted to make sure… well. Do not mistake my intentions for chivalry,” he sighs, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. “You seem interesting, and I should hate to have to destroy your livelihood when you inevitably take me to court, lose, and my father subsequently destroys your name and everyone who has ever been associated with it.”

L’lo blinks, her hands pausing alongside her hips, where she has just begun to peel her leggings off. She sets her legs back down on the bed and signs, slowly, [You are vastly underestimating me. I’m almost offended,] She stills her hands long enough to tug her leggings all the way off, then tosses them unceremoniously across the room, leaving her in just her simple black bra and thong. [Now get over here and breed me like you mean it, or I shall ask them to remove you so I don’t have to deal with your whining all week.]

It appears to be all the permission Zenos needs, as he tears his jacket off and lets it fall to the padded floor, stalking across the room towards her with his frigid blue eyes glinting in a way that makes L’lo’s inner omega squirm to watch. The half-gloves come off next, tossed carelessly to one side, and Zenos barely kicks free of his lace-up boots before he is at the side of the bed, crawling over her, caging her in with his arms and thighs. L’lo lets out a pleased chirping sound at the way he towers over her, tries to box her in. As much as it feels nice to be so very dwarfed by her partner, a partner being  _ larger _ than her has never stopped L’lo from destroying them in the past. It’s time to test Zenos, just a little.

The miqo’te slips off the edge of the bed, right between Zenos’ legs before he can make any moves other than belatedly reaching out to grab her and pull her back beneath him. L'lo twirls around Zenos' back, nimbly ducking beneath his arms as he spins and grasps for her. [You'll have to try harder than that, your Radiance,] the miqo'te mocks him with her hands, smirking as Zenos' eyes burn into her, tracing her movements carefully now rather than reaching blindly for her a third time. She feints to one side, her smile only growing as Zenos does not react, then feints again, dancing easily across the padded floor until her back presses up against the padded wall. [Coming?] she signs, her tail flicking playfully from side to side behind her copper thighs.

Zenos rises to his feet, slowly, gracefully, and pauses there for a moment, as though he is a fox and she, the rabbit he hunts. L'lo smirks as the Alpha reaches down and begins to unbutton his shirt as he advances towards her, one easy step at a time. L'lo sucks her lower lip between her teeth and begins to chew on it, rubbing her thighs together for some much-needed friction as Zenos cautiously approaches. He's on her faster than she expects, given his ungainly size, and L'lo stays where she is, allowing the Alpha to press her up against the wall with his hips. 

He's so tall, his straining erection digs into the skin between her breasts, and L'lo chuckles with delight at the firm feel and unbelievable size of it. The Alpha reaches down for her throat, and pinches her windpipe gently between two fingers, leaning down until he can whisper into her ear, which flicks at the sensation of his hot breath against it. "Your heat may not have started yet, but I have been holding my rut back for  _ hours _ ," he growls, voice low with dark promise as she squirms against him, pressing her breasts up against his considerable girth. "I would have you  _ now _ , so that I can be certain that you can even  _ take _ my knot, and this has not been an exercise in futility for us both."

L'lo nods, pleasantly dizzy from lack of air as Zenos finally removes his fingers from her throat, and lets out a broken yelp before she can stop herself as the Alpha hoists her up with just his massive hands about her waist. He moves her higher against the wall, pinning her there with his chest, and reaches down to drag her panties off with just one finger. She bites her lower lip as the Garlean's finger brushes against her drenched folds, and peels the delicate lace of her thong away from her soaked skin. It makes a wet noise as it drops to the ground beneath her, and L'lo rolls her hips down, seeking friction, only to be denied as the Alpha merely snorts, removing his fingers to open his own trousers.

L'lo wraps her arms about his neck, now finally in reach, and clings to the Alpha with a building anticipation in her blood as he reaches down to tug down his leather trousers and free his massive cock. The miqo'te bucks her hips forward, hoping for her first feel of it, but Zenos stops her with a growl, one hand gripping her hip and pinning it back against the wall as he snakes his other hand beneath her thighs and to her entrance, probing between her folds. She attempts to roll her hips into the feel of his fingers, despite their comparative disappointing narrowness, but Zenos growls again, pressing her hips more firmly into the padded wall.

"Have you no patience, you beast?" He asks, voice thick with barely restrained lust as he glares into L'lo's spring green eyes, which merely crinkle with amusement in reply. "I would not break my new toy so soon after acquiring it," Zenos growls, and slides his forefinger inside of her, probing and curling it experimentally. L'lo gasps and scrabbles at his back with her stupid capped claws for a more secure handhold, that one finger alone reaching further within her than any of her previous partners. The Alpha exhales deeply, leaning in to mouth at her shoulder as he adds a second finger, his teeth just barely digging into her skin before withdrawing, his breath ghosting over the wet patch left behind as Zenos fights to maintain his composure.

The stretch of two fingers is already as large as at least one of her previous partner's cocks, but with each curl against her sensitive core, L'lo hungers for more, and she's whining and writhing against Zenos' chest, tapping impatiently at his neck. The Alpha pulls back from her shoulder just to glare at her, and L'lo holds up three fingers, wiggling them with an ambitious gleam in her eyes. The Garlean obliges, plunging a third finger inside her without preamble, and arches an eyebrow at the miqo'te he has pinned against the wall as she clenches down on it, mewling, still hungry for more, if the way she attempts to grind down against his hand is any indication. 

"Insatiable…" Zenos growls, beginning to pump his fingers into her with purpose, shifting a thigh beneath her ass to hold her up against the wall as he finally releases her hip, moving instead to slide his newly free hand behind her back. She feels his fingers working at the clasp of her bra, and much to her surprise, he manages to undo it with just that one hand, then trails his fingers around her torso on his way to free her breasts. L’lo clings to him, only releasing him to shrug free of her bra and hurl it away somewhere, before digging her capped claws into the meat of his neck once more, scowling at the dull ache the action brings to her fingertips. Her scowl is quickly shaken free as the Alpha curls his fingers into her most sensitive spot, and L’lo keens, hitching her legs higher around Zenos’ torso as she renews her efforts to grind down against his hand. “Very well,” the Alpha sighs, hitching L’lo up higher against the padded wall, his fingers slipping free with a slick sound that makes her toes curl. “If you cannot be dissuaded… then I suppose I shall indulge you. Do not say I did not warn you…” 

L’lo has but a moment to shift her grip on Zenos’ neck before she can feel him nudging against her drenched folds, hot and thick and hard as sin - and then the miqo’te is wailing, scraping her capped claws ineffectually up the length of Zenos’ shoulder blades as he surges up into her. She writhes, gasping for breath at the feeling of being filled like she’s never been filled before, Zenos’ cock stretching her to the point of pain, dragging inexorably along every milm of her core as he presses in and in and  _ in, _ before  _ finally _ hilting completely, his cockhead digging into her cervix. She feels blessedly, transcendentally full, and L’lo can feel a drop of saliva roll down the corner of her lips, her mouth hanging open in a mixture of shock and overwhelming pleasure. Feeling him inside her, feeling him throb with every beat of his heart, the miqo’te feels her heat wash over her completely, surging to the forefront of her mind and obscuring all but being  _ bred _ by him, this Alpha with the massive cock and addictive scent.

[Move,] L’lo signs frantically, slapping at Zenos’ chest until he pulls his head back to look down at her, a snarl upon his lips, which dies as he watches her fingers dance. [Move, move, move, move, move!] He growls as his rut-addled mind processes her hand motions, and nods, leaning down to nip the tip of L’lo’s ear, hoisting her up, almost off of his cock completely, then drops her back down, letting gravity sink her back onto his member. The miqo’te keens, her hand motions faltering as she scrabbles instead to sink her claws into Zenos’ skin, to mark, to bleed, to claim, only to find herself stymied yet again by the damn claw caps. She lets out a pained, frustrated yowl, bringing a cap up to her lips and biting down on it, wincing as she bites into the sensitive claw underneath in the process. 

“Take those stupid things,” Zenos growls, his voice deep and low with hunger even as he bucks up into her clutching core, leaning in to catch one of L’lo’s fingers between his teeth. He pushes her finger down with his tongue until he can grasp the rubber cap between his teeth, and tugs it off, turning to spit it off into some forgotten corner of their padded paradise. “ _ Off _ ,” he snarls, shifting his hands up to seize L’lo’s hands and tug the caps off, one at a time, until her claws are blessedly free. “Mark me, beast,” the Alpha orders, pressing L’lo’s hand against hist breast with one hand, shifting his hips and leaning further into her, into the wall, as he sets a relentless pace, fucking up into her with reckless abandon. 

It’s all the permission L’lo needs, and she digs her claws viciously into Zenos’ chest, choking out a tiny relieved sigh between punched-out gasps as the Alpha fucks her, relishing in the way her claws are able to flex and retract, the blood that wells up from the unmarred skin soaking her fingertips. The Garlean growls, darting in to sink his teeth into the flesh of L’lo’s shoulder, which makes her writhe on his cock, and wrap her arms about his neck to claw up his back. “That’s it, beast…” Zenos gasps, his voice thick with lust, as he hoists her up with one hand on her ass and presses her deeper into the padding on the wall, pounding into her core hard enough that L’lo wonders - her inner omega delights in the thought - whether her ass will be bruised tomorrow morning. “Make me  _ bleed _ !”

Well. Zenos sounds entirely too thrilled, to have her precisely where he wants her. It’s time to change that. L’lo snarls, reaching up to seize the Garlean’s hair at the nape of his neck, and then  _ pulls _ as hard as she can. The Alpha  _ keens _ , dropping to knees, gasping for breath, as L’lo clings onto him with her claws sunk into his shoulder and his hair wrapped neatly around her fist. She feels the way his erection throbs within her, impossibly even harder now, and the miqo’te grins, using her powerful thighs to hitch herself back up Zenos’ cock until only the head is left sucking at her entrance, begging to be sheathed once more, and drops herself all the way back down. The Garlean is still gasping for breath, his own fingers tearing into the padded wall behind her as he fights for a handhold, as L’lo sets a punishing pace, hoisting herself up and dropping back down, her lips splitting into a feral grin as she feels the burn in her thighs.

Zenos chokes out a laugh, sounding downright unhinged as he rolls them over, pinning L’lo to the padded floor, and surges forward, claiming her lips in a vicious kiss, all teeth and tongues and growls. “Yes...  _ yes _ !” the Alpha cries, pistoning his hips against her own at a ferocious pace now, his own hand tangling in her hair and using it to pin her to the floor, which makes her shriek her pleasure, and sink her claws into his chest once more. “Such ferocity, such  _ tenacity _ !” L’lo would slap him for talking so much if his dick wasn’t exactly what she needed, exactly when she needed it. 

She knocks Zenos’ hand on her hair aside and hauls herself up, wrapping her arms about the Alpha’s thickly muscled neck so she can rock with his every thrust, her tail curling into coils at the deeper angle this position affords her. The miqo’te crosses her feet at the ankles and rides out the brutal waves of her pleasure, back hovering ilms off the ground, sweat dripping liberally down both their bodies to soak into the padded floor below. One hand curls into his hair once more and tugs, drawing a feral mix between a snarl and a howl from Zenos’ throat, and L’lo presses her face into the crook of his neck. She digs her nose into the skin where she knows his scent glands are, and laves her tongue over the spot, her instinct to mark pulsing through her mind as quickly as her frenzied blood does her body. 

“It fills you even now, doesn’t it?” Zenos pants, his voice hoarse with feral passion as he swallows, the motion jostling her nose, L’lo has pressed herself so tightly against his throat. “The hunger. To mark, to claim, to breed. To bite down on my throat, to feel the beat of my heart even as you make me your own…” The miqo’te bares her teeth, sinks them into the skin of his throat, just over where his scent glands lie hidden beneath the flesh - and sucks, rather than biting to draw blood.

She is not in her right mind. He is not in his. They don’t even know each other, outside this hospital, outside the Special Heat ward. Every nerve in her body is lit up, vibrating, pulsating with the need to bite, to tear through the delicate skin, to taste his essence upon her tongue… and L’lo refuses. The miqo’te suckles gently at the skin above Zenos’ scent gland, one of the most sensitive places on the body, and she cries out as the Alpha wraps his arms about her, pressing her down into the padded floor beneath him. He slams his hips home and remains there, spilling his seed inside her, dragging L’lo over the edge until she cries out her pleasure and comes at the sensation of being so full, his seed  _ hot _ and  _ wet _ and  _ hers _ ...

“Such willpower… Such restraint...” Zenos gasps, his hands trembling where he clutches L’lo to his chest, hips still stuttering as his knot swells within her, locking them together. “Good...  _ good _ !” he laughs, still sounding mildly unhinged as he rolls over onto his back on the padded floor, never once releasing his grasp on L’lo’s body where he cradles her so tightly to his still-bleeding chest. “This is the beast I have longed to  _ fuck _ ! To  _ breed _ !”

[You breed me because I allow it,] L’lo signs, huffing and rolling her eyes, not too far gone in post-coital bliss to reach down and seize Zenos’ balls, threatening to puncture them with her claws. The contortion she makes to do it must be spectacular to see, but the Alpha is too busy sucking in a breath and holding it, his thighs quivering around her hand. She squeezes once, a promise of a threat, and withdraws her hand, twisting back up to splay out on Zenos’ chest until she is comfortable, yawning and rubbing at the corner of her eye. When she opens her eyes again, Zenos’ powder blue eyes are wide with shock, but so too are his pupils with arousal. She can feel his member twitch with interest inside her, and L’lo smirks, reaching up to tap Zenos’ chin and close it. [You’ll catch flies with your mouth open like that,] she signs, before folding her arms over his chest and resting her chin atop her forearms, wriggling her hips as she makes herself comfortable.

“Hah…” The Alpha gasps, his expression fluctuating for a few moments before he seems to settle on delighted amusement, and he wraps his arms about her shoulders, clasping the miqo’te more tightly to his chest. “Hah… hah… The hunter has indeed become the hunted. And yet… there is only joy.” In a gesture that seems markedly out of character for the Alpha, Zenos reaches up and brushes a sweat-soaked strand of hair from L’lo’s forehead, tucking it back behind her ear with a tenderness that borders on reverent. “Transcendent... joy... that I have never known.” L’lo arches an eyebrow questioningly up at Zenos, but leans into his touch regardless, a purr guttering in her chest for a moment before starting up properly. “How invigorating, how… pure, this feeling.”

[Have you truly never been challenged so?] She signs with a smirk, her ear flicking against Zenos’ fingers in her hair. [Just wait until my heat is over. I’ll kick your ass, and you’ll thank me for it.]

The Alpha chuckles, deep and rich, and strokes his thumb along the outer shell of her ear, smirking up at L’lo with the comfortable ease of a man precisely where he wants to be. “You are certainly welcome to try… after taking my knot so well, I almost believe you capable of doing just that.”

[Careful,] L’lo warns him, sinking her claws into his pectorals once more, just to remind him that she, too, is dangerous. [Keep talking to me like some kind of pet, and I’ll make you eat your words before they so much as come to check on us tomorrow morning. You know I can,] she adds with a smirk, tugging herself up Zenos’ chest by her claws in his skin until his knot is tugging sharply at her entrance, and she can reach his scent gland to lave her tongue over the quickly-darkening mark in his skin there. She is rewarded with a sharp inhale from the Alpha beneath her, and bares her teeth in a feral grin as she feels his large hands come to wrap around her hips, squeezing tightly before remembering just how close her teeth are to his throat, and hovering just above her skin. [That’s better,] L’lo signs with a hum, lowering herself back down Zenos’ chest, sighing as his knot settles back inside her, no longer tugging so precariously towards freedom. 

The Garlean heaves a shaky sigh, another mad chuckle escaping his lips, as he finally lays his head back down against the padded floor. “What a strange beast you are…” he breathes, closing his eyes for a moment, before he shifts, resting his head against the padded wall so he can observe the miqo’te around his knot and atop his chest. “Strange indeed…”

[You’re no better than me, Zenos Galvus,] the miqo’te signs, closing her eyes and resting her cheek against the Alpha’s racing heart, a smug smirk curling her lips. [We’re both beasts, aren’t we? You’ve been waiting a very long time to find someone just like you. Well. Here I am,  _ beast _ . This is already the best heat I’ve ever had. You think I’ll let you disappear after this? Good luck being rid of me now.] L’lo resists the urge to smile as she feels Zenos twitch with renewed interest inside of her, and instead turns to suck a hickey just below his nipple. [I hope you’re ready for round two,] she signs, propping herself up onto her elbows, then sitting upright upon Zenos’ knot, gyrating her hips in a slow circle. [Because  _ I _ am. And _Twelve help you_ if you can’t keep up.]

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, blame the book club. Or just come screech at me there! Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club: https://discord.gg/ME4eAEt


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